


Deep Breath

by agent85



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Depression, F/M, Suicidal Thoughts, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-03-13 07:27:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3372896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agent85/pseuds/agent85
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He takes a deep breath and wishes that he'd never woken up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deep Breath

**Author's Note:**

> This story is an exploration of what's going through Fitz's head, leading up to his decision to move to the garage. I have a lot of experience with depression (and unrequited love), and since Fitz has been exhibiting a lot of depressive behaviors, I wanted to talk about what he's likely going through. That said, this is not the kind of thing to read if you're having a bad day or not feeling great about yourself. Read with caution and know that, like Fitz, we are all worth more than we think we are.

He takes a deep breath and wishes that he'd never woken up. 

It's not the first time he's wished it. It's just that now, when she's here, the desire is constantly floating in the front of this thoughts. 

If things had gone as he'd planned, it would have been fine. Everything would have been fine. He'd be out of their way, instead of constantly mucking things up.

She'd be fine, too. She'd be free of him.

And he'd become something else, something braver and stronger. Something she would likely prefer. 

Would she like him if he were a microbe? If she discovered some quality in him that lead to a groundbreaking discovery? Yes, he should have become that. Something interesting. Something she'd notice.

He stood by her side for ten years, and she never once noticed.

But she notices him now, like he's a new patch of gray hair she just discovered in the mirror. She wants to pluck him out, but he'll leave a bald spot. So she tries to pretend that nothing's wrong, that he's not defective. That she can take some dye and blot out his shortcomings.

She's never been good at pretending.

In the end, it's like watching a poorly-acted one-woman play. It's like she's still undercover. And he's doing this to her, hurting her just by breathing, just by being.

If he could wish himself out of being, he'd do it and spare her. Spare all of them.

And it's not just that he's no longer a genius, or that his hand still shakes. It's the knowing. It's that he is tortured by the softness of her skin, and the smell of her hair, and she knows it.

He could have hid it for years, and she never would have noticed. But he had to open his mouth and ruin everything. If only words were as slippery then as they are now. Or if she hadn't asked why.

But of course she would ask. And if he loved her a little less, if she wasn't the sun, moon, and stars, maybe he could have lied to her. Instead, when he made an offering of his life, she'd demanded that he also sacrifice the truth. How could he refuse her? How could he withhold that piece of truth that was already rattling around in his heart, aching to be set free?

The truth is free now, but he isn't. They lied about that. No, the handcuffs that bind him are made out of that truth. So is the cage around his heart. If only he didn't have a heart anymore.

Now that she knows, she can see it. In the way he speaks, the way he looks at her. He tries to push it out of her way, but his control was lost at sea. 

Really, he did die that day. Now, he's just the remains.

She knows that, too.

It was the other Simmons that didn't know. It was the best part about her, really. Besides the fact that she was there, of course. And that she still helped him. But she also didn't know, and it was perfect. They could have been perfect, forever. 

Yes, he thinks, she should have just left him there, like he'd expected. But she always was surprising. Ten years of study, and she is still so new.

And really, abandoning him was beneath her, but she should have done it. That's the part that stabs him in the heart when she looks at him. She feels it, too.

There are always dangerous things around. He could make short work of ending himself. He could even make it look like an accident, to spare them of any guilt they might pick up by mistake. But no, he'll never get up the courage to do it, because he knows that however it happened, she'd be the one to find him. She's already discovered one dead colleague too many. He can't put her through that again, even if this time, he wouldn't have to hear her scream. Knowing that she would is what makes up the shackles on his feet, the ones that keep him living.

And since he can't turn back the clock, or make a permanent end to his torment, you'd think he'd at least be able to rip out his own heart. This would all be solved, if only he could find a way to stop loving her, but the thought puts a twisted smile to his lips as he sees the irony. The remedy would be biological. That would be her area of expertise. And maybe one day he could stop being a coward, and ask her to help him fix one more problem. Then they would both be rid of these disgusting feelings.

Or he could forget them. They have a machine to remember, why not one to forget? Maybe he could make such a device. Or maybe he could go to HYDRA, and have them wash his mind clean.

Maybe he could find Lorelei, and be a slave to her instead. 

He gets more desperate as he counts his exits, but in the end, there is no way out. No way to crush this longing to be near her, to be more to her. No way to ever be enough.

Because the truth was that he wasn't enough for her then, and if he couldn't interest her when he was whole, he's certainly lost his capacity now.

The only escape, he thinks, is distance. He'll hurt her less if she doesn't have to look at him, if she doesn't have to be reminded of the parts of him that are missing and the large remaining piece that she doesn't want. She'll thrive without him weighing her down. He'll fade out, he knows, but this way she won't notice. This way, he can break in darkness, and she'll slowly forget about the parts of him that died. Maybe she'll forget about him altogether.

He takes in a breath and lets out a sob.

She is the sun, and moon, and stars. She is life and sunshine.

And he should have never woken up.

He should have stayed at the bottom of the sea.


End file.
